I Can’t Decide Whose Olympic Team I’m Going to Join

Yeah, even I couldn’t finish that title without laughing and having to wipe the spit off my computer screen. I, my friends, am no athlete, not even now that overprotective mothers have somehow gotten their children’s schools to declare cup stacking to be a sport.

Once upon a time it might have been possible. I do know that there was a time in my life in which I sort of resembled a boney and lithe Russian gymnast. But then I turned four and no longer fit the bill. There was also a brief period in which my developing skeleton helped me at least look like an Olympic swimmer, but sadly, I quickly left Brazilian or Italian team swimmer behind and went straight to East German swim team member. Men’s team, women’s team…makes no difference.

Luckily, the years I spent living in Europe gave me the chance to spend a lot of time skiing, so there were a few years in which I looked like a downhill skier. Unluckily, I never said I got GOOD at downhill skiing, so I’m going to have to imagine that I looked like a member of the Olympic ski team from a country that is situated on the equator AND has no mountains. Those people don’t ski a lot, and therefore I could probably hang with them on the slopes.

Now that I don’t have a lot of time to train (I mean, work out, and by that I really just mean walk briskly), I’m starting to resemble a power lifter. Again, men’s team, women’s team…eh. I’m fighting with every ounce of strength I don’t have. I’m willing to settle for looking like most women pro bowlers I’ve seen. At least those ladies can still rock a pair of shorts. But I bet those cup stackers have some ripped biceps.

Actually, I just read in Wired magazine that curling is apparently very hard. As in, you have to be born in one of those countries AND be the descendent of a professional curler, even just to figure out the rules. I also thought of curling and dismissed it because it looks a shit-load like housework.

If there are lessons for curling, something I am good at should be declared a competitive sport–like precision laundry folding or speed vacuuming..Oh wait, I forgot about all those frat games involving shot glasses. I guess that is as close to sports stardom as I will ever get.

This is me going infrognito because I have been informed that my writing is offensive and I should be ashamed to show my face.

WAIT! Are you looking for Lorca's YA page where she actually talks about books and being a writer and stuff? Because this isn't it. Click the picture to be taken AWAY from the page where she posts crazy stories about flaming roadkill and stuff like that.

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